Sunday, July 8, 2012


So I am left wondering what's wrong with me...

I found out about a week ago that my sister is living with my dad's friend's son.  That sounds pretty convoluted, but it isn't.  Also, she's pregnant.  Ok, so no big, she's preggo, I will check it out.  So I get home from work, and find out that she's on the way to the hospital to have the baby.  Wow...

Also, none of this information is from her, it came from my dad to start with, and then the info about being on the way to the hospital from her fiancee's mother's wall on FaceBook.  I was incredibly hurt that she hadn't thought enough of me to call me in the last eight months or so.  I mean, really?

The next day I find out from my brother that she's back on Facebook and he has been talking to her, and knew that she was pregnant.  WTF?  Really? I can't figure out why no one has thought it worthwhile to tell me besides my dad.

You may think: "you know, you could call her too."  You're right, I could, if she wasn't known for being irresponsible and disappearing and changing all her phone numbers and email addresses for months at a time.

If we hadn't ever been close, I could understand it.  I really could, but I raised her until she was 6 when I got out of our abusive home.  I have had a tremendous amount of survivor's guilt because I left, and left her there.  I tried to help her when our mom tried to kill her when she was 15ish, when she turned her back on me and chose a life with people who let her do whatever she wanted.  I get that, she's a kid, she wants to have fun and do what she wants to do, not what someone else tells her is best.  Later, I let her and her husband move in with me and my husband because his parents owned the house they lived in and were giving them all kinds of hell.  She never paid rent, she was there for 2 months and never pitched in on anything, but bought groceries once.  She didn't work, and we let her drive our car and move like 4 freaking cats in with us.

When her grandmother died (she and I have different fathers), her Aunt called me so that I could get ahold of her and let her know, first when she was sick, and then when she actually died.  Because they didn't know how to get ahold of her.  When I finally did get ahold of her, after jumping through all kinds of hoops because, finding her and letting her know was the right thing to do: she never even said "Thanks."  Never mind that I went to a lot of trouble to find her.

Now, she has finally friended me on Facebook again, and I go to her page to see what she's been up to and I am hurt all over again.  There are pictures of her at her baby shower and all.  I should be there for those things.  I'm hurt that she doesn't want anything to do with me, and doesn't even seem to care anything about me.

How do I stop caring?  How do I not be hurt?  I don't know, but sometimes I really wish that I could just cut hurtful people out of my life like they have cut me to the bone.  It would be so much easier.

I can't help but wonder if one of the big lessons that I am supposed to learn in this life is pain and suffering, because I sure do get a lot of it.